


we'll never be royals

by tripleangst



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Princess Diaries Fusion, Happy Ending, Internalized Homophobia, Language Barrier, M/M, Past minor character death, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-20 23:42:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6030172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tripleangst/pseuds/tripleangst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Artemi discovers that he is the next in line and only heir to the Genovian throne. Now it’s up to him to decide: Should he follow his NHL dreams or take on royal responsibility? Viktor is there to help him through the process, in more ways than one. The Princess Diaries AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we'll never be royals

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dragons_and_angels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragons_and_angels/gifts).



> I hope you like it! It was fun working with this pairing. I hope you don’t mind the slight Artemi/Toews thrown in! I tried to stick to key plot points from TPD. Happy belated Valentine’s Day!!
> 
>  **notes to others:**  
>  If you’ve never seen The Princess Diaries, you can still read this fic. Hand-waved a lot to make this work. Everything written in English is actually said in Russian unless otherwise specified. I didn’t do a lot of research about Russia, but I tried to stay as vague as possible for that reason. Still, if I offended anyone, I will gladly punch myself in the face and then promptly edit. Beta’d by [thistidalwave](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thistidalwave/pseuds/thistidalwave) who is great and reminded me that I am trash for not having it done on time. xoxo

~*~

October 2014

Father-Son Skate for SKA Saint Petersburg is next week, but Artemi is easily ignoring the “father” part of the event. He always has.

Artemi’s grandparents tell him that his mother became pregnant with him the winter she met a young man named Phillipe, some jerk-off from Genovia. (They don’t tell him the jerk-off part, but that’s the portrait Artemi likes to paint him as.) His mom had taken a job at a ski resort in Moscow to help pay for her college tuition. At the resort, she met Artemi’s father, and they “fell in love over coffee,” as his grandma puts it. 

Phillipe was charming and wealthy, but he left before Artemi’s mother found out she was pregnant. Apparently, Phillipe came to see Artemi after he was born, but for some reason, his mother never wanted Phillipe in their lives. Artemi assumes it’s because he knocked her up when she was on the verge of starting adulthood, but that’s basically all he’s ever gotten out of his grandparents. It’s a sore subject. 

Artemi’s mom died when he was two, so it’s not like he has any memories of her either, but at least he doesn’t hold her leaving him against her. He can’t say the same about his “father.”

It's a lot to take in, sure, but it is what it is. He’s been around a lot of death and he knows he has daddy issues. Moving on.

It’s the first year that Artemi’s best friend Viktor won’t have his father with him at the annual Father-Son Skate, and Viktor’s story is much different. Vasily Tikhonov died last August, and only up until a couple of months ago has Viktor felt comfortable being back in Saint Petersburg away from the rest of his family. Artemi’s not emotional about death, but he's been there for Viktor through the entire process. It's made them a lot closer--in more ways than one--so at least there’s that.

It’s nice that Artemi has Viktor back on the ice with him now. They’re both being watched by NHL scouts, and even though that adds on the pressure, it’s only helped improve Artemi’s game on the ice. Unfortunately, this hasn’t translated to his ‘game’ off the ice.

~*~

It’s after practice, all the guys are changing and cleaning up in the locker room. Artemi is busy drying his hair after showering, but he can’t help but overhear some of his teammates joking a few lockers down.

“You getting lucky tonight, Toews? Everyone saw the blonde who was watching you during practice,” one of Artemi’s teammates says.

Jonathan Toews, hockey extraordinaire, started playing for SKA Saint Petersburg last year, and like Artemi, he’s made quite the impression. They’re electric on the ice together, and even though he’s starting to believe he made it all up in his mind, Artemi can’t help but want more than on-ice chemistry. He was able to come out to himself two years ago and to Viktor last year, but he’s still never fallen in love like he wants. When Jonny hugs him after he scores a goal, nothing else seems to matter. Unfortunately, Jonny doesn’t give Artemi the time of day off the ice, but that doesn’t stop Artemi from wanting him. It’s safer this way. Wanting is safe; it can stay hidden.

Jonny laughs and zips up the rest of his gear. “It’s not so much _I’ll_ be getting lucky as _she’ll_ be getting lucky, all right?” He picks up his things and starts walking towards the door which is by Artemi’s locker. “Later, boys.”

“Bye,” Artemi smiles, trying hard to get Jonny to look at him. Instead, Jonny just walks right past him like he does every day, not acknowledging his presence unless Artemi has the puck. It’s a work in progress.

Artemi sighs and finishes up drying his hair and changing his clothes. Viktor takes the opportunity to lean over to him, speaking quietly. “Don’t listen to him, he’s just bragging.”

Artemi smiles and nods, pretending that it doesn’t sting a little when Jonny doesn’t notice him. At least he has Viktor. “Makes you want to go out and meet a pretty girl too, eh?” 

Viktor looks away and blushes, smiling a little to himself. Artemi doesn’t miss it.

“Tonight?” he asks quietly, looking around to see if anyone is paying attention to them.

Viktor simply nods and packs up the rest of his things. “See you in a bit.”

 

It started shortly after Artemi came out as “I think I’d like kissing boys, but I’m not sure.” It started shortly after Viktor came out as “I’ve kissed boys, and I’m sure.” It started shortly after they both realized they could tell no one for fear of heavy consequences, both on and off the ice.

They started up a routine and swore they would not let it get past friendly fucking. Adding feelings into the mix would just complicate things on the ice, and that’s what’s most important to them, anyway.

 

Artemi gets to Viktor's apartment a few minutes after Viktor does and walks in to Viktor already heating up the food they made the night before. (Okay, Viktor made it, but Artemi gave plenty of helpful suggestions.) Artemi leans over Viktor to grab a fork from the drawer and promptly takes out the container that was just in the microwave.

Viktor watches Artemi take the first bite before he realizes Artemi doesn't plan to share. “Hey! You can heat up your own.” He reaches for the container, but Artemi holds it away from him and pouts.

“You made this for me yesterday. Why are you trying to make me starve?” Artemi extends his bottom lip out as far as it will go.

Viktor sighs and leans against the counter. Artemi waits for Viktor to break into a smile, and when he does, Artemi sets the food down on top of the microwave and walks the few steps it takes to be invading Viktor's personal space. “Are you upset with me?” Artemi fake pouts again.

“Always,” Viktor says.

Artemi curls his fingers in Viktor's belt loops and tugs at them lightly. “Can I make it up to you?”

This always works on Viktor. Always. Whenever Artemi’s chirped him too hard or takes up too much space on the couch, he likes to create this scenario and he knows Viktor enjoys it, too.

Viktor's facial expression grows darker, and he possessively slides his hands down Artemi's sides to rest on his hips. “I don’t know. What did you have in mind?”

When the curtains close, Artemi can be himself. Only here, only with Viktor. He's never been in love, but he loves how Viktor's body can make his body feel amazing.

He slowly kneels to the floor and sets his eyes on Viktor's zipper. He reaches up to cup him through his jeans and enjoys the feeling almost as much as Viktor does. “How about this?” he asks innocently, as if rubbing Viktor through his jeans is something he hasn’t done before.

Viktor’s jaw tightens, but he stays still, acting like Artemi is barely touching him. “Feels okay.”

Artemi’s eyebrows furrow and he reaches down with his unoccupied hand to rub himself at the same speed his other hand is rubbing Viktor. “It makes me feel good. See?” He motions to his own growing erection. 

Viktor looks almost in pain at the sight, a little breathless. “Oh. Wow.”

Artemi tries to keep a straight face. Viktor wouldn’t like it too much if he started laughing. “These would look better on the ground,” he teases, feeling Viktor's dick harden against his hand as he continues to rub him. 

His mouth is going dry, so he sucks in his lips to wet them before his mouth ghosts over Viktor's erection. Viktor wastes no time in putting a hand in Artemi's hair to hold his mouth there, his hips involuntarily bucking forward just a little.

“I think we should move to the bedroom,” Viktor exhales, already helping Artemi up.

When they're both standing, Viktor takes the opportunity to kiss Artemi hard, pressing him against the fridge. It's a small space to work with in the kitchen, but Artemi doesn't need space when he can hold Viktor close and let himself be kissed. He loves how strong Viktor is, how he can go from blushing like a schoolboy to roughly pressing Artemi against any flat surface. He loves feeling Viktor grab his ass, acting like he can fuck him through his clothes if he tries hard enough.

Artemi guides Viktor to the bed, giving his chest a gentle shove so Viktor lies down on the mattress. When he takes his own shirt off, he goes to straddle Viktor's waist but holds back on grinding down until Viktor's had his fair share of staring. Artemi likes to see Viktor look at him with _want_. He's had girlfriends, let them ride him until he was finally able to come, but nothing compares to this. He's felt friendship and compassion for girls, but not blind lust, begging to be fucked into the mattress until he can't take it anymore.

They've only ever been rough with each other. Viktor's naturally a romantic in bed, but Artemi had to put a quick stop to that. This can't be more than fucking. Artemi's grinding on Viktor through both their boxers now, the rest of both their clothes scattered on the floor. 

There’s not much foreplay after that.

As Viktor fucks him, Artemi has to let his mind wander, has to pretend Viktor is someone else as to not get too attached. He imagines Jonny fucking him, pounding into him and taking what he wants. Thinks of those piercing brown eyes staring him down. It’d be so nice for Jonny to talk to him in the locker room, but he knows those moments of disappointment and the slight sting in his heart need to go away if he’s going to join the NHL. He’d become an even easier target if he let himself be vulnerable. He’s not ashamed of who he is, but he knows everyone he loves would be. 

So, he lets himself enjoy these moments, come on Viktor’s cock as he strokes himself through the guilt. 

After sex, Viktor tells Artemi he should stay. 

Artemi rolls over on the bed, away from Viktor. His body is glistening with sweat and he needs to shower. Viktor always tells him that he should stay the night, but Artemi only occasionally does. He knows Viktor is probably just lonely and Artemi fills the empty space in his bed, but if they made it a regular habit, Artemi’s pretty sure he’d start developing feelings, and that’s not a good idea. “Not sure, but I need to shower, if that’s cool.”

Viktor’s still coming down from his orgasm, but he manages to open his eyes and look over at him. “Sure, you know where the towels are.”

Once he comes out of the warm shower, Artemi’s thinking he might take Viktor up on his offer tonight. He’s tired from practice and the idea of driving home right now doesn’t suit him well. 

They’re lying in the same bed, but they don’t hold each other. Artemi won’t let him. He’s flipping through his phone, catching up on social media, when he sees a link on Facebook about poverty in the Middle East. The article doesn’t really teach him anything new, but he’s left with the same feeling he always has when he reads stuff like that.

“I wish I was good at more than just hockey,” he says, breaking the silence in the bedroom.

Viktor is reading a book with his glasses on, bless his heart, but he puts it down to look over at him. “You’re good at other stuff. What do you mean?”

Artemi sighs, sets an alarm and puts his phone on the nightstand. “Like what if I could have been a teacher? Or an environmental person that can grow food for the world?”

Viktor smiles. “Like a farmer? You can still do that and play hockey.”

“No, like, someone who comes up with the crazy inventions that save the world. Like, I don’t know.” He starts smiling, knowing he’s too tired to really explain himself right now.

Viktor scoots closer to him, but doesn’t try to wrap an arm around him, because that’d be breaking their agreement. “Maybe instead of video games, you should start studying more. It’s not too late to try something new.”

Maybe he’s right.

~*~

Artemi is at home with his grandparents when they set a letter in front of him at the kitchen table.

“This came for you,” his grandmother says. Both his grandparents are staring at him intensely. It’s already out of the envelope and looks like it’s been read. Artemi’s about to complain that they always read his mail when he sees a semi-familiar name written in the letter.

_...regret to inform you that your biological father, Artur Christoff Phillipe Gerard Grimaldi Renaldi, was pronounced dead on October 20, 2014, after a fatal car crash…_

Artemi stares at the letter that explains how Phillipe died instantly in a car crash thanks to a drunk driver who didn’t stop at a red light. The letter also says that Phillipe’s mother would like to pay Artemi a visit as soon as possible. 

Artemi looks up from the letter and stares at his grandparents. “Well, my birthday is in a couple days, so she’ll just have to wait. I’m not talking about some dead guy on my birthday.”

Both his grandparents look alarmed and glare at him. “Tyoma, did you hear what you just said? Don’t be so disrespectful, your father is dead.”

He sets the letter down and stands up. “You are my parents as far as I’m concerned. You raised me, not him. I don’t know that man.” And then he pauses. “...Wait, Renaldi? I thought Phillipe’s last name was Reynolds?”

His grandparents look at each other. “No, it’s Reynolds. That is just the Genovian spelling of it, the English spelling,” his grandpa says, laughing it off a little.

“Oh,” Artemi says. He looks back down at the letter, and it only frustrates him more. “I still don’t know why I have to meet her. Even if he didn’t want to know me, you’d think a grandmother would want to know her grandson. I owe her nothing.”

His grandma goes from looking worried to a little angry. _Uh-oh._ “You might not like your father or her, but the dead deserve to be remembered.”

That sparks something new in him. “Remembered? You’re right. That’s why we never talk about my mother, why you refuse to really explain why she didn’t want my father around.” He walks out of the kitchen and goes to sit on the couch. He knows he’ll need to apologize in like five minutes, otherwise he’ll get a severe talking to, but with such sensitive information, he thinks his dramatic exit should be forgiven.

As he’s letting his rage die down, they end up being the ones who come to him. “She is grieving, Tyoma. It will not hurt you to meet with her.”

His grandpa hands him the letter again and he glances over it. He is kind of curious to see what she’d be like. “Maybe he left me some inheritance?”

His grandparents look a little pale. “Yes, possibly. She told us to ask you a day that would work for you to speak with her. Do you know your schedule yet?”

Artemi nods and tells them when he’s free, says he’ll meet with her a few days after his birthday. Apparently, his grandmother is some politician from Genovia, because she’ll be renting out some fancy house nearby that Artemi will have to go to. Whatever. It’ll be a break in his normal routine to meet her.

~*~

Turns out, his grandmother doesn’t speak Russian, so Artemi is having Viktor come with him to meet her at her fancy ambassador house or something. Artemi has thought for a while that he should start to learn English since the NHL seems to be paying attention to him, but he feels he’s still a long ways away from that, so he’s not in any rush. He knows Viktor is thinking about going back as a free agent, and the Chicago Blackhawks are paying attention to both of them. Things could get interesting, but there’s still a bunch of stuff to be worked out in the front offices.

In the meantime, _to grandmother’s house we go…_

When they get to the house, there is a large intimidating gate with a guard waiting for them. Artemi had been thinking his grandmother was some kind of low politician--he’s not sure how the Genovian government works--but now he’s getting a lot more nervous than he was prepared to be.

The guard buzzes them in when Artemi gives him his name, and when they drive up, Artemi sees an older woman in the window with another security guy on the porch. _What is up with this?_

“If we’re about to get murdered, I’m sorry,” Artemi tells Viktor before they get out of the car.

The woman from the window is walking out onto the porch when they get out of the car. He’s guessing that she’s Clarisse, his grandmother, the politician from Genovia. She’s wearing a pastel pink suit dress, her short hair combed to elegant perfection. Artemi’s not sure if her pearl earrings and necklace make her seem fancier or if she makes _them_ seem fancier. God, he really should have worn a suit. Khakis and a clean sweater don’t cut it.

The security guard with sunglasses on, a guy probably in his fifties, eyes them carefully as Artemi and Viktor walk up the stairs of the porch. Artemi smiles at Clarisse for a moment before nudging Viktor to explain to her in English that he’s sorry for her loss. 

It’s kind of awkward to listen to them talk in a language he doesn’t understand, but he hears Viktor say his own name, and then Clarisse shakes Vikror’s hand and motions to Sunglasses guy, who Artemi is told is Joe.

When it’s his turn to step forward, he’s not sure what the protocol is, but he feels he should be allowed to at least shake her hand without Joe shooting him in the head. Artemi at least knows “sorry” in English, so he says that himself as he shakes her hand. Clarisse smiles gratefully and from her expression, he can tell she says “thank you.”

Clarisse is looking at Artemi as she speaks, but Viktor translates for both of them as they’re talking, which is pretty helpful. “She says you can call her Clarisse, but babushka will do,” Viktor says. Bless Viktor’s heart for being so polite in front of her when all Artemi really wants to do is go home.

Artemi nods and doesn’t say anything else, but he decides he’ll call her Clarisse for now. 

She invites them inside the rented home, Joe following closely behind. It’s as fancy as Clarisse and smells strangely like pears. 

As soon as they sit down in what is supposed to be a family room but is definitely more of a meeting room, Viktor starts translating for her. “Thank you for meeting with her on such short notice. Um, as you can probably guess, she didn’t want to meet under these circumstances, but it’s important to meet now. With the passing of Phillipe comes a, uh, life-changing problem and it was important to meet in person to discuss it.”

Artemi nods along, trying to get comfortable with both of them staring at him when they take pauses to speak. Clarisse looks nervous and Viktor is doing his best to seem professional. This is awkward.

Clarisse starts speaking again, so of course, Viktor does, too. “She was informed by your grandparents that you had known your dad as Phillipe Reynolds, but his actual last name is Renaldi.”

“What?” Artemi interrupts, both of them staring at him. 

Viktor continues to translate. “Please forgive them for not telling you the whole story. It was at your mother’s request. Your father was--” Viktor stops translating and is just listening to Clarisse speak in English now. 

Artemi looks at Viktor and nudges him to keep translating, because he’s nosy and wants to know what she’s saying, but Viktor looks so confused. 

“Viktor, what’d she say?” 

Viktor clears his throat and continues. “She says that your father was the crown prince of Genovia and, due to his death, you are now the next in line and the only heir to the Genovian throne.”

Artemi avoids looking at Clarisse for a moment as he laughs out loud once. “Is she joking?”

Viktor looks at Clarisse and then at Artemi. “I don’t think so.”

Artemi looks at her, not knowing what to say. Clarisse asks Viktor something, but Artemi’s sure she’s asking what Artemi last said. 

Artemi feels his anger boiling up, but he keeps it well hidden. “Tell her that she shouldn’t have come all this way just to tell me something like this. I don’t fucking believe it. Where’s the proof?”

Viktor’s eyes widen. “Whoa, Tyoma, watch your language here. She’s a queen.”

“She doesn’t know a thing. She doesn’t know Russian. I can say whatever the hell I want. Tell her I want proof. How do we know she’s even my relative and not a scam artist?”

Viktor sighs. “I think she’s--”

“I want proof, Viktor. Tell her.”

Viktor presumably tells her that, finally. Clarisse nods and motions for Joe to bring her a manila folder. She stands up and hands the folder to Artemi, looking a little concerned, but smiles anyway.

Thankfully, everything in the folder is translated for him, so he can scan over it easily. The first document in the folder says his father’s name was Artur Christoff Phillipe Gerard Grimaldi Renaldi, a prince, etc. There are pictures of him, from childhood to recent years, and Artemi would be lying if he said he didn’t look like him.

“She says you can keep that to read later, if you’d like,” Viktor says quietly.

Viktor’s comment snaps him out of his thoughts and he looks up at Clarisse. She smiles at him, looking like she might know what Artemi is experiencing, but no, she can’t know. She hasn’t been around. Artemi stands up, looking at the floor when he speaks. “I want to go. We’ll meet with her later. I need to think.” 

He starts trying to leave, but Viktor stands up and grabs his arm gently. “Tyoma, you can’t just leave.” 

Clarisse also stands up, looking a little more worried now.

This is so annoying that he can’t just tell her off in his own language. When the fuck was he ever going to need to speak English? “Then tell her I need to go to the bathroom. Tell her I’m taking a shit.”

Artemi knows Viktor will say something much nicer than that, but it makes him feel good to get his anger out in some way. He brings the folder with him as he goes in search of a bathroom, Joe pointing in the right direction for him. He locks the door and sits down on the closed toilet, staring at the folder now on his lap. _This doesn’t make any sense._

He reads the letters his mother and father sent to each other when he was first born. There are baby pictures of Artemi in the folder, and then there’s the last letter his mother sent to Phillipe, explaining that she didn’t want to be a princess and that Phillipe shouldn’t have to be a father at 20 just because he got her pregnant. She wanted to raise Artemi in her home country with her parents, and he had a country to help rule. She was making the decision to not write back after that last letter.

Artemi doesn’t realize he’s been crying until his hand comes up to wipe the few tears that are caught in his eyelashes. 

 

When he comes back into the family room, Viktor and Clarisse are having tea while Joe continues to stand nearby. Artemi nods at Joe, trying to smile. He feels a little sick to his stomach, but he thinks he can compose himself now. He sits down next to Viktor on the couch.

“Ask her if she’s learned Russian since I’ve been in the bathroom. I don’t like this back and forth,” he laughs a little, trying to make up for being a dick earlier.

Viktor stares at him. “I’m going to tell her that you said, “So, does this mean I’m a prince?” Because I at least want to know.” Artemi shrugs back.

He can’t help but admire Viktor when he’s speaking English. It kind of turns him on that Viktor can speak fluently in a language Artemi knows nothing about. He turns his attention to Clarisse, expecting her to nod about the prince thing, but she tells Viktor something else instead.

“She says that you’d have to be crowned. She’s here to, like, seek out your decision, says you’re like the last hope, basically, to have the family name stay royal. But, uh, she stresses that it’s up to you and stuff.”

 _Well, fuck._ Artemi will definitely have to think about that then.

They leave not too long after that, but at least it’s not in anger. Clarisse explains to Viktor that she’d like to meet with Artemi once he’s had some time to process the information, even if he decides to deny the crown. Somehow, “denying the crown” doesn’t seem like something you can do, even if it is up to you. Artemi has a lot to think about.

He hugs her goodbye this time, even though he barely knows her, and says sorry for her loss again. It is sad that she lost her son, but he can’t say he feels those same emotions.

When they get in the car, Viktor sets the papers Joe gave Artemi in the back seat so Artemi can’t think to rip them up. They wait until they’re out of the gate to start talking on the drive home.

“So, that was different,” Viktor starts.

Artemi sighs frustratedly. “You’re fucking telling me. I have no idea what to think about this all.”

Viktor laughs, Artemi immediately giving his shoulder a light shove. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just hilarious. Like, you? A prince? Literally the last thing I would have thought when I first met you.”

Artemi folds his arms and leans against the window. “Can we not talk about it right now? I kind of just want to space out.”

Viktor frowns, turning the music on in the car to help distract Artemi. “Don’t worry, she can’t expect you to give her an answer tomorrow. You’ve still got a lot to read.”

 

It’s a long drive back home, so twenty minutes into their journey, Artemi manages to pull up the papers from the backseat and starts reading up on who his father was. 

From the articles printed, Artemi concludes that his father’s main focuses were on education and poverty in Genovia and that he was loved by all. _Perfect._

Artemi scoffs. “He was such a hypocrite. My grandparents worked countless jobs just to get me to hockey practice, and here he was going off about poverty. You think he would have given them some money or something.”

“Maybe they didn’t want it,” Viktor suggests.

Artemi sighs, knowing fully well that even if Phillipe had offered, his grandparents would have been too proud to take anything. “No one told me. They should have told me.”

Viktor shrugs, smiling a little at him as they’re stopped at a red light. “Well, they can’t hide anything from you now. Time to get to know who you really are, Tyoma, Prince of Genovia.”

Artemi smiles and rolls his eyes, leaning into Viktor’s arm as the car starts to move again. “I really just wanted to focus on the ice this week.”

Viktor laughs. “Hey, this will be a good way to get to know your pops and maybe get some free food out of it if you’re lucky.”

He does make a great point.

~*~

After they have a long talk, mainly with Artemi arguing with them about why they didn’t tell him he was a prince’s son, his grandparents convince him to attend "prince lessons" in preparation for his introduction to the Genovian government at some formal ball. Even if he decides not to be crowned, he still has to show up, which is both a nice and terrifying thought.

He has Viktor come with him the first few days, since they need to properly do background checks on a couple translators before bringing them in to help Artemi. They don’t want it spreading to the media that the Queen of Genovia is in town to give prince lessons to her long lost grandson. Artemi is more than okay with nobody finding out about this.

He’s not okay with missing some hockey games though, but Joe has talked to the coaching staff and office of the SKA about it and they are letting Viktor out of a few games to work with Artemi, too. 

As much as he hates missing games, he especially hates being told “you need to have better posture and put lotion on your cracked skin,” as instructed by Clarisse via Viktor. Artemi frowns and looks down at his arms, rubbing over them a couple times. 

The two start talking in English for what feels like a long time, most likely talking about everything wrong Artemi does in his life. 

“What are you talking about?’ Artemi has to ask a couple times. He knows he’s nosy as fuck, but he can’t help it. Viktor waves him off and says he’ll tell him in a second, not wanting to interrupt Clarisse.

To punish him for taking too long, Artemi decides to have his own fun. Viktor is having more fun as a translator than he should be, so Artemi needs to change that. “Maybe I’d have smoother skin if I didn’t have to wash it all the time. Did you tell her why I take so many showers?”

Viktor stops talking in English and directs his attention to Artemi, starting to turn bright red. Clarisse is smiling over at Artemi, completely clueless as to what he’s saying. This is too good.

Artemi takes the opportunity to smile animatedly, using his hands to act like he’s telling a great fishing story. “...maybe I’d be cleaner if you stopped fucking my mouth. Is that what you two are talking about? How good you fuck my mouth?” He pretends to reel in a big fish and fake laughs. He nods at Viktor for Clarisse’s benefit. “Tell her, Viktor. Tell her about how much you like coming down my throat.”

Viktor has to spend the next five minutes making up a funny fishing story to tell Clarisse. Unfortunately, Viktor is shit at telling stories, so poor Clarisse ends up having to fake laugh. Artemi smiles at her and laughs, acting like they now understand the same story. He could so get used to this.

 

Day two goes a little smoother, now that Viktor has learned his lesson about making Artemi wait too long to know what’s going on.

Clarisse invites her assistant to be a part of training, and they force Artemi to walk up and down the hallways “like a prince.” They manage to have some fun with it, Viktor laughing as Artemi walks with his head straight and arms held at his sides like a robot. Artemi pulls him up from the couch and forces him to walk princely with him, getting a rise out of Clarisse and her assistant. Joe still stands in the corners looking unfazed by Artemi’s playful antics. He’ll have to crank up his charm on that guy.

 

On day three, Artemi hates to admit it, but he’s having fun with prince lessons. He still hasn’t had his heart to heart with Clarisse, but he almost feels like he’s getting to know her through how much Viktor seems to enjoy her company. Plus, he’s getting a kick out of occasionally slipping in talk about Viktor’s dick around the Queen of Genovia without her knowing.

“She’s never seen a live hockey game,” Viktor smirks as they drink tea in the family room again. “Maybe you should let her come to a game?”

They’ve been talking about how Artemi would be able to play hockey in these next few weeks as he starts learning English and princely things. Artemi still hasn’t made up his mind on whether or not he wants to be crowned prince, so they leave out that inevitable conversation.

“We’ll see,” Artemi smiles lightly. It’s starting to dawn on him that this inevitable conversation is coming sooner rather than later.

A few minutes later, Clarisse says something that makes her assistant’s eyes brighten. 

“What? What’d she say?” Artemi asks.

Viktor hesitates. “They want to give you a makeover.”

~*~

It’s been another week, mainly a couple days of extensive English learning, but today’s the makeover day.

To give Artemi a more presentable look for the Genovian ball, Clarisse’s assistant has brought in world-renowned Italian hairdresser and stylist Paolo to give his hair a nice trim and force him to pick out some new clothes. Paolo speaks English, but it seems like no one understands him regardless, so Artemi doesn’t know what to think of him. 

After Paolo has made his hair a little shorter--and arguably much better--his assistants wheel out two racks of clothes with possible suits and nice clothes Artemi could wear when he’s around the queen, and then of course, he needs to pick the tux he’ll wear to the ball.

Artemi points to a black tux and one of Paolo’s assistants goes to pick it out for him to try on. “No, no,” Artemi says in English, pointing over to Viktor. 

Viktor seems confused, but Clarisse understands what he means. From what he’s learned in English so far, he understands “you are [something], Artemi. Viktor [something] have a [something--he thinks “suit”], too.”

Artemi nods energetically and presses the hanger of the black suit coat and dress pants against Viktor, smirking at how uncomfortable Viktor is with everyone looking at him now. “Paolo doesn’t speak Russian, does he?” Artemi whispers.

Viktor asks him, and then shakes his head at Artemi when he gets the reply from Paolo.

Artemi smirks, handing the tux back to one of the assistants, but he puts a hand on Viktor’s shoulder, feeling Viktor relax into it despite how uncomfortable he is right now. “You are on this journey with me, and no friend of mine will wear the shitty tuxes you have for game days.”

Viktor goes from smiling to rolling his eyes.

They all have fun making Artemi try on suit after suit until he decides on a navy blue one with a black tie. He doesn’t miss the way Viktor stares at him when he comes out of the dressing room with it on, and he doesn’t miss the way it makes him feel on cloud nine.

~*~

As part of his agreement to do prince lessons, he’s still allowed to go to a couple home games, which means he can’t miss practice this morning. When he goes to park, he notices there are a lot more cars in the parking lot than there normally are for practice. As he’s about to start hauling his duffelbag towards the back of the stadium, he hears a lot of commotion happening on the other side. When he turns the corner and walks towards the front, he is suddenly confronted by a sea of reporters and cameras. _Oh, shit._

“Artemi! What was your first thought when you found out you were a prince?” “How does it feel to be royal?” “Are you still going to play hockey?”

All these questions are shouted at him as the head coach and security of the rink are there to help him inside the building. Some of his teammates are standing around, talking amongst themselves. 

Jonny Toews is the first to come up to him, Viktor not here yet. “What the fuck is going on out there, Panarin? They’re saying you’re some kind of prince?”

Artemi is trying not to panic--because there are reporters or because Jonny is actually paying attention to him, he’s not sure--but now he’s getting a call from his grandparents and the security are starting to lead him to the back of the rink.

His grandma says that Joe is going to pick him up and that he can’t go to the game today. Too shaken up to argue, he rushes to the back of the building before the reporters think to go there and Joe’s SUV pulls up. His grandparents didn’t know how the media found out, and since Joe doesn’t understand him, they are driving to Clarisse’s house in silence.

Artemi looks at him from the back seat of the van. “You don’t get to have fun much, do you?” 

Joe looks in the rearview mirror at him. Artemi sighs, staying in the middle and down low to avoid paparazzi as they drive through the city.

Viktor isn’t able to leave practice again, so they have another Russian translator when they get to the house. It’s not like there’s a secret to keep anymore.

The translator is on the front steps, explaining to Artemi as they’re walking into the house that Paolo was the one who spilled to the media that Artemi was a prince-to-be. He has since been sent back to Italy and Clarisse is furious.

She comes walking quickly into the foyer when Artemi comes through the door and hugs him. “I’m sorry,” he understands her saying, but the rest the translator needs to interpret.

Clarisse and her assistant spend most of the day on phones, Clarisse organizing plans with security and her assistant doing all the rest. Artemi is left to study his english with the translator until Viktor shows up, freshly showered from practice.

Artemi is hugging him before the door shuts. Viktor smiles and pulls him back, trying to get a good look at his face. “You okay? Sorry you had to miss practice. I was pissed they wouldn’t let me come see you.”

Artemi shrugs, letting go when Joe comes into the room, and they all walk back towards the main room. “I guess I don’t mind missing the game if everyone would be there just to watch me do poorly.”

“That’s the opposite of what you’d do, but I see what you mean,” Viktor says.

 

With Viktor here, the translator gets to leave, and now it’s back to just Artemi, Viktor, and Clarisse on the couches with Joe nearby.

“She’s sorry that you had to go through that today,” Viktor translates for Clarisse. “She knows how important hockey is to you, so they’re only going to let limited media into the building when you play, and you should be able to go to practice.”

Artemi nods. “Thank you,” he smiles at Clarisse. He really is starting to like her, but there are still a few things nagging at him.

“Do you mind me asking her some personal questions?” Artemi asks.

Viktor looks confused. “Why would I mind?”

Artemi shrugs. “I don’t know. Because they might get heavy, and I don’t want you to have to translate my emotional baggage for me.”

Viktor smiles a little and is about to put a hand over his until he remembers where they are and that they are not out to anyone. Even if holding hands for a moment wouldn’t need to mean anything, they shouldn’t risk it. Who knows how homophobic Genovians are or not.

The mood in the room changes when Viktor asks Clarisse if Artemi can ask her a couple questions. She sits up straighter but seems calmer. It’s nice.

“Ask her why my father didn’t try to contact me after my mother died, please and thank you.” It’s not a question he wants to ask, but he needs to. 

Viktor does. Clarisse tries not to look sad but fails. She talks for a long time, and he hears words like “baby” and “mother,” but he’s really only been studying for his prince speech, not to learn everyday words.

This time, Viktor reaches for his hand and holds it, and Artemi doesn’t really care to let go, because Clarisse is wiping a tear from her eye, so he figures whatever she said is emotional and Viktor is getting emotional, too.

Viktor takes a deep breath. “She says that she didn’t find out about you until Phillipe was thirty and you were around ten. Phillipe and your mother knew that if they told Clarisse about you that she’d want to meet you, and so out of respect for your mom, she didn’t reach out, but she’s been wishing all this time that she had. She’s asked him many times why he didn’t reach out, but she says he felt too much guilt to start. It had been too long. It wasn’t until a week before his death that he had started making plans to come see you, wanting to make amends.”

Artemi squeezes Viktor’s hand a little, fighting back whatever tears were planning on coming down his cheeks.

Clarisse reaches for Artemi’s other hand and is staring at him through her tears. He doesn’t need Viktor to translate her emotions for him. He knows she says something like, “I’m sorry it took so long.”

They spend a few moments in silence, trying to bring the mood in the room back up before speaking again. Artemi asks his grandmother if his father wanted to be prince, to which she replies yes, but adds that he thought of renouncing his title only once when he fell in love with Artemi’s mother. However, he realized his love for his country was greater.

Artemi can’t help but roll his eyes at that. “Tell her that my love for your cock in my mouth is greater than any love I could have for my father.”

Viktor’s eyes widen and for some reason Joe starts coughing and has to go into the other room. Whatever, he better not get Artemi sick. “I am 100% not telling her that. Jesus. I’m going to tell her that you wish you could have known him, but you understand.”

“Close enough,” Artemi says.

~*~

He falls into a slightly comfortable routine after that night. Clarisse and him go from speaking about how to be a prince to what a prince does, and it leaves Viktor and Artemi having long talks into the night, joking about how someone with such lack of skill in leadership could help rule a country.

Artemi has been staying at Viktor’s, not wanting to go home to his grandparent’s house, because paparazzi have been lurking around there. He reaches into his duffel bag for a condom and shakes it at Viktor. “Want me to give you the royal treatment?”

Viktor groans and falls back on the bed, putting his head in his hands. Artemi jumps on the bed and straddles his waist, giggling from above. “Come on, that was clever. Tell me I’m clever.”

“You’re cheesy,” Viktor smirks, uncovering his eyes and putting his hands on Artemi’s waist. 

Artemi pouts, slowly grinding down on him. “You’re not nice. I need to get my confidence up so I can make the right decision. You’re not helping.”

Viktor stops smirking and looks at him a little more serious. “I thought you were going to say yes?”

Artemi doesn’t want to be dramatic and say dread’s filling up his lungs at the thought of that question, but yeah, that’s what it kind of feels like. “I don’t know yet. I’m still deciding.” He takes a moment to collect his thoughts and then grinds back down on Viktor. “Now, are you going to fuck me or not?”

~*~

It’s after practice one day that Artemi finds himself face to face with Jonny again, not having talked since the big media scare day. Viktor’s somewhere behind him, changing into his normal clothes, but now that Jonny’s eyes are staring attractively into Artemi’s soul, everyone else is kind of far away.

Jonny stands closer to him then Artemi thinks is necessary, but he’s not complaining. “So, how’s the prince life treating you? Probably getting all the girls now, eh?”

Artemi laughs and blushes, shaking his head. His heart may or may not be beating out of his chest. “No, trust me, I’d much rather be out on the ice with you guys. I just hang around a 65 year-old woman all day and have to be extra polite. Not that exciting.”

Jonny laughs a little and puts a steady hand on his arm. It feels like fire against Artemi’s skin. God, he’s so easy to turn on. “Well, that’s no fun. Sounds like you need to get out.”

Artemi rubs his lips together without thinking and hopes to god Jonny missed that, but he’s smirking now, so he doubts it. “Uh, yeah, probably. I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Jonny is acting cockier than usual, and Artemi is shamefully digging it. “Why don’t we hang out tonight, Panarin? Let me distract you from having to be prince charming.”

He laughs a little and almost trips on nothing, trying to grab his duffel bag off the bench. “Uh, yeah, I think I could do that.”

Jonny smirks. “Great. I’ll pick you up at 8?”

Artemi nods. _Oh my god. It’s happening._

Jonny pats his arm and closes his locker. “We can get food and then go from there, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for Artemi to nod, just smiles and walks out of the locker room.

Viktor comes to his side a moment later and looks a little annoyed. “Since when did he start talking to you?”

“Since I got a haircut, probably. What else has changed in my life since then?” Artemi grins.

Viktor looks annoyed with Artemi more than Jonny now. “He’s using you. You don’t care?”

Artemi shrugs, getting ready to leave the locker room. “Maybe he just never really looked at me before, and this prince thing got him thinking about how awesome I was all these other times. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. I’m a good person like that, you know?”

Viktor shrugs back, zipping up his coat and acting like his phone is more important than looking at Artemi. “Yeah, go for it,” he says smiling a little. “Have fun tonight.” He leaves the room, not offering his usual fist bump or telling smile like Artemi expected.

 

Jonny picks Artemi up from his grandparents house a few minutes after eight and takes him to a small classy place for dinner. Artemi’s worried about being noticed, but it is dark enough in the restaurant that he should be okay. 

The ride over wasn’t as electric as Artemi thought it would be, but he blames his nerves for any awkward tension there might be. Once they order drinks, Artemi is able to look Jonny directly without blushing too hard. 

Jonny is smiling back with ease. “You’re getting drunk tonight, I hope you know.”

Artemi almost chokes on his water, but he tries to laugh it off. “What? Oh, really?”

“Yeah.”

Artemi’s pretty sure his face is beat red. “And you’re drinking, too?”

Jonny shrugs, thanking the waiter when he comes by with their drinks. “A little, but I did tell you that you needed a break, didn’t I?”

It’s true that he hasn’t drank much since Clarisse came into town. He definitely hasn’t been out to the bars or anything like that. Artemi nods and orders another drink before their dinner comes out. Their conversation throughout the meal mainly consists of hockey talk, which is fine, but it’s mostly Jonny talking about Jonny, and from being around friends like Viktor, Artemi’s really not used to that. 

Once Jonny brings up his past girlfriends, Artemi’s hopes and dreams of turning this hangout into a date kind of fizzle out, but once they get back in the car, Jonny turns to him with an interesting suggestion.

“Hey, how about instead of heading back, we go out to a club. I doubt you’ll be recognized there.”

Artemi feels a little bit of hope scratch the surface again. “Yeah, sure, sounds fun.”

 

The club isn’t empty when they get there at ten, but it definitely could use more people to make Artemi feel safer about not being seen in public. Once they’re in, Jonny takes them straight to the bar and orders shots. Artemi isn’t complaining. He definitely needs more liquid courage to talk normally with Jonny.

“So, besides play hockey, what else do you like to do?” Artemi asks him after the shot.

Jonny seems to be a bit preoccupied with a couple girls walking into the club and ignores his questions. “Hey, can you hold on a sec? I’ll be right back.”

Artemi watches Jonny go over to the girls and offer to buy them drinks. To keep himself busy, he opens a notepad app on his phone and stares at his pros and cons list of becoming a prince of Genovia.

 **pros:**  
-actual prince  
-palace?  
-doing good  
-supporting charities?  
-genovia = can marry there?  
-can make a diff.

 **cons:**  
-no hockey  
-leaving russia  
-leaving family (or they come w/?)  
-no privacy  
-no playing hockey w/ viktor  
-no more viks cooking  
-can’t wear bball shorts

Reading the list in a club where his supposed crush is turning out to not be that great is starting to bring some new thoughts to the front of his mind. Most of his cons involve not being able to see Viktor every day, and he’s got to admit, he’d be having a way better time if Viktor was here right now.

As he’s having this revelation, he’s getting a call from Clarisse’s appointed translator, so he takes his phone into the bathroom to be able to hear him over the phone.

“Hello?”

“Joe is wondering where you are. You haven’t been answering his texts,” the translator says.

“I’m at a club, I’ll text him the address. Tell him I’ll want to be picked up soon.”

“Everything okay?”

Before he answers, Jonny pushes open the bathroom door and smiles drunkenly at Artemi by the sinks. Artemi tries to smile back. “Uh, yeah, just let him know. Thanks, bye.”

He hangs up and has no choice but to stare at Jonny. “Hey, what’s up?” Artemi asks.

Jonny smirks and pushes open an empty stall. “I think we should talk.”

“In there?”

Jonny shrugs, motioning for Artemi to go inside. Much to his better judgement, Artemi does and Jonny locks the stall behind them. Before Artemi can say anything, Jonny’s mouth is on his and he tastes like vodka. 

Artemi pushes him off. “Jonny, what the hell? What are you doing?”

Jonny laughs softly, putting his hands halfway up to show mock surrender. “Hey, sorry, it’s what I thought you wanted.”

He hopes he looks angry, but he probably just looks pathetic. “How would you know? We’ve barely talked.”

Jonny smirks. “I see the way you look at me in the locker room.” He gets closer again and puts his hand on Artemi’s side. Artemi pretends to look confused, but it only makes Jonny smirk harder. “Come on, I’m not dumb. Don’t play dumb with me either.” 

Artemi tries to keep his defenses up, but this finally sounds like the real Jonny, not the guy who was boring him at dinner. His voice comes out smaller than he wishes. “How’d you know?”

Jonny rubs down his side and then brings his hand to cup the back of Artemi’s neck. “Honestly? I didn’t really consider you a possible hook-up until I saw Viks look at you the way he does. It was maybe like two months ago? I don’t know, you guys were talking, and it was around the time that I felt like fucking a dude, so I was paying more attention in the locker room, and he was obviously looking at you like you were the best goddamn thing that walked this earth and you were enjoying it.” The hand on his neck drifts down to hover over his wrist as he continues. “Then this prince shit started, and I saw him death glaring at me when we were talking earlier, so I figured you liked me or at least he liked you, and I don’t know.” He shrugs. “That’s basically it. Thought you’d wanna fuck. I wanna say I’ve fucked royalty.”

Artemi always thought they were discreet in the locker room when talking, but he never accounted for their body language or facial expressions. He has noticed Viktor always seemingly in a bad mood when he catches Artemi looking at Jonny, but he always thought Viktor just didn’t like Jonny. If Viktor actually likes him more than just a fuckbuddy, then how could he possibly be feeling right now, knowing that Artemi’s basically on a date with Jonny? He swallows the large lump in his throat. 

“Is that a yes or no? You look constipated,” Jonny says.

Artemi sighs. His pros and cons list was right. Not having Viktor around is worse than never fucking with Jonny. “You know, if you were to have asked me any time before today, I would have probably dropped to my knees in a heartbeat. But, no offense, you’re kind of boring and I now understand why you’re always single.”

He goes to unlock the stall, but Jonny grabs him by the wrist and pulls his hand back. “Come on, you can’t say shit like that. We gotta stick together, you know?” Jonny guides Artemi’s hand to his crotch, feeling that Jonny’s been semi-hard this whole time. “This is what you wanted, right? Relax, I told you I’d distract you. You can fall in love with Viks tomorrow.”

Artemi rips his hand away and unlocks the stall. He’s more annoyed than angry now. “No, Jonny, fuck off. You never paid attention to me until this all started. It’s just because of the prince shit, right?” 

Jonny shrugs, not trying to deny it.

Artemi sighs. “Thanks for dinner. I won’t tell anybody about…” he motions to the stall and Jonny. “Just don’t out me to the world, okay?”

Jonny laughs, walking out of the stall with him. “Trust me, I know where we live. I’m trying to not ruin my life and get murdered either.”

Before Artemi can open the door to the bathroom, Jonny leans in front of him and puts his hand over it. “Real quick, are you going to leave the team? I’m going to the NHL after this season, so I don’t really care where your talent goes, but just curious.”

 _Of course he doesn’t care about the team._ Artemi can’t help but laugh. “Jesus, can you just stop talking? Everything you say is like the actual worst.”

Jonny lets him open the door without any complaints and they’re immediately greeted by cameras snapping and microphones reaching for Artemi. He takes a step back, accidentally bumping into Jonny. His arm wraps around him and Artemi looks over to see Jonny smiling and waving at the cameras. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I might have told those girls earlier that the Prince of Genovia was in the bathroom, hoping they would go home with us. My bad. Just smile,” he says.

Artemi shrugs Jonny off him and starts making his way through the paparazzi, trying to be as polite as possible, but it’s not working. Luckily, a strong hand grabs him and almost has to yank him through the crowd before Artemi sees it’s Joe. Without any questions, Artemi lets Joe drag him through the club and out the back where the car is waiting for them. He hops in the back and Joe speeds away from the cameras.

Artemi starts breathlessly saying that he’s sorry and that he didn’t do anything wrong, but then he realizes Joe doesn’t speak Russian, so he shuts up and just lets him drive in silence. His heart’s still racing, and he knows they’re going to print photos of him and Jonny walking out of a club bathroom, and even if people just think they’re two good hockey buddies, Viktor will think the worst happened, and that’s somehow worse than outing himself to Russia. 

He calls Viktor as fast as he can, but it goes to voicemail. He groans. “Viktor, hi. I, god, I messed up and we need to talk, but not over the phone. I’m sorry. Please don’t read anything online about me tonight, okay? I’m so sorry.”

Immediately after he hangs up, Viktor’s calling back, but now he can’t bring himself to answer it. Calling him was a mistake. He’s worried he’ll pour all of his emotions out over the phone, and he needs to physically see him. He lets it go to voicemail and throws his phone against the seat. God, he’s fucked up. “Viktor’s house! Please!” he says in English, hoping Joe will listen.

Joe looks at him through the rear-view mirror. “Sorry, Artemi,” is all he says.

 

The unflattering photos wind up online in a matter of minutes, articles saying that the soon-to-be Prince of Genovia was getting drunk with his hockey friend at a club downtown. Luckily, he sees it on his phone before they get to Clarisse’s rented home, so Artemi knows he’s about to get yelled at.

When they get there, she’s waiting for him in the family room/meeting room, and has her hands folded on her lap. Artemi sits down across from her on the couches and does his best to look at her, but he feels like an idiot. “I’m sorry,” he says in English.  
She looks at him and cocks an eyebrow.

“Very sorry,” he tries again. He wishes he knew the words for ‘I fucked up and I understand if you hate me,’ but those words aren’t going to be in his prince speech, so he doesn’t know them.

“I know,” is all she says. 

The translator comes into the room next and sits down next to Artemi. Clarisse nods at the translator who begins telling Artemi what Clarisse has obviously already told the translator before he arrived. Apparently, Clarisse is not as upset with him as he thought, but she is displeased. “She says you can still invite your grandparents and Viktor to the ball, but she doesn’t want to see that Jonathan Toews guy.”

Artemi hopes he doesn’t nod too enthusiastically at that last part.

 

When Clarisse is done speaking with him for the night, he gets in the back of Joe’s SUV to be driven home. He hopes that his teammates don’t chirp at him for getting sort of drunk with Jonny, but he’s mostly worried that Viktor will think he’s ‘with’ Jonny now.

He knows he can’t avoid him forever. He decides to text him.

 **To: Viktor**  
_Can i come over?_

He waits for an immediate reply, and when he doesn’t get one, he leans his head against the window and watches the streetlights pass by, counting them until he reaches ten.

His phone buzzes and his fingers fly to unlock his phone.

 **From: Viktor**  
_Why don’t you ask toews? I’m sure he’ll be happy to give you an orgasm._

Ah, fuck. Artemi fucked up real good.

 **To: Viktkor**  
_He tried but i didn’t let him. I don’t care about him._

This time, he gets a text back almost immediately. 

**From: Viktor**  
_Funny how you liked him for so long and now you don’t want what’s being offered. Guess i should have played hard to get, too?_

Well, at least now it’s confirmed that he likes him, right?

 **To: Viktor**  
_No, u weren’t there, he’s an idiot. Breaking news - i’m also an idiot._

Ten minutes away from Artemi’s home, Viktor’s face lights up on the screen of his phone and he only has a brief moment of panic before answering.

“Hello?” Artemi says.

Viktor takes a moment to respond. “Hi.”

Artemi can’t help but exhale in relief. “For a minute there, I thought you were never going to talk to me again.” He keeps his voice down even though he knows Joe can’t understand what he’s saying anyway.

Viktor’s voice is soft and light on the other end, but he still sounds annoyed and hurt. “I’ve thought about it sometimes, but it’s hard. You make not talking to you difficult.” Artemi’s heart has sunk somewhere down by his butt.

“I’m sorry I make you feel that way.” He means it.

“You’re fine, it’s my fault. I knew what we were, but I got lost in you anyway. Not your problem.”

Fuck. “Well, I--” God, he needs to see him, doesn’t want to have a conversation over the phone like this. “I’d like it to be my problem, if that’s all right. I know it’s late, but can I come over?”

He’s expecting Viktor to sigh a whole bunch, but he gets a ‘yes’ out of him quickly, and in no time, they’ve hung up and he’s leaning towards the front seat to speak with Joe.

“Viktor’s? Please?”

Joe laughs a little and motions towards the road. It’s the first time Artemi’s paid attention to the street in a while and he realizes they’re already heading towards Viktor’s apartment. He’s not exactly sure what Joe says next, but he takes it to mean they’re almost to Viktor’s already.

He thanks Joe as many times as he can stand before getting out of the car. He’ll need to learn “I owe you one” in English for next time he sees him.

Artemi only needs to buzz Viktor’s apartment for a second before the door opens, and he practically leaps up the stairs to get to Viktor’s door. 

The door opens after two knocks. Viktor’s hair is wet and he’s in his sleep wear--old Saint Petersburg shit and basketball shorts. He feels like he’s really seeing him for the first time.

“Hi,” Artemi says, not sure if it’s okay to smile like he wants to.

“Hey.”

“You buzzed me up. Do you want me to stand out here all night?” That gets Viktor to smile a little, and Artemi feels like he’s won a small battle. He clears his throat, feeling the tension ease a little. “...Because I will stay out here all night if that’s what you want.”

Viktor looks a little hesitant, but he opens the door wider and closes it after Artemi walks in. He stays standing by the door and shoves his hands in his short pockets. “So, you asked to come over. What’s on your mind?”

All Artemi really wants to do is kiss him, but that’s kind of what got him in this mess. “I should never have gone out with Jonny.” Viktor rolls his eyes a little and smiles, his hands coming up to fold his arms. Artemi steps forward. “No! Really. You think he’s bad in the locker room? He’s way more into himself than you’d ever imagine.”

“I honestly have told you that thirty times.”

Artemi is about to protest but, shit, Viktor really has tried to warn him. He stuffs his hands in his pockets too and sighs. “You’re right. You’re always right.”

It’s Viktor’s turn to step forward. “No, you were just trying to live out your fantasy with Jonny, and both him and I kind of ruined it for you.” He sighs. “For the record, I did get upset when I saw those pictures of you guys together, but after I texted you about the orgasms thing, I kind of had a feeling of what had happened. I’m more pissed that he hurt you.”

“And that I hurt you,” Artemi adds. He reaches out to hold Viktor’s arm by his wrist and feels his heart simultaneously drop and lift to new heights as Viktor’s hand curls into his. “I think I knew at some point that you liked me, and I think I also knew that I liked you, but I was too scared to do anything about it.” He gains the confidence to turn Viktor’s hand around and holds it in his own. “You scare me, because I could see myself falling for you, and I’m kind of in a bind right now with this whole prince thing? So, I’m just scared shitless of everything, you could say.”

Viktor laughs and pulls him into a hug. The hug is nice and warm. Viktor is warm and nice. “You don’t have to be scared. ...Of the prince thing anyway. Of me?” He pulls Artemi back a little and raises his eyebrows. “You should be _very_ afraid.”

Artemi fake pouts and pulls him back in for a tighter hug. “Really though, about all the prince stuff, what am I supposed to do?”

Viktor kisses the top of his head, despite Artemi’s continued pouting. “It’s okay, you’ll figure it out.”

 

After they’ve hugged for a generous amount of time, Viktor warms up some soup--now at one in the morning--and is forcing Artemi to eat it on the couch with him. A fireplace may as well be in front of them, because this is feeling domestic as fuck. (Artemi enjoys it.)

A blanket is draped over them as Viktor has his arm wrapped around him. “What do you think would make you the happiest?”

Artemi swirls his soup with the spoon. “Hockey. But then I’d feel like I let a country down--and literally would--so, maybe not that.”

“Hockey doesn’t last forever. Would you regret being prince?” Viktor asks.

Artemi sighs. “No… But I’d be giving up something I love. ...I’d be giving up playing with you and the guys and eventually the NHL.”

Viktor tries to soothe him by rubbing his arm gently. “Yeah, but you were thinking Chicago, right? And I’d go to Arizona, so we’d only play with each other like maybe twice a season regardless. Being a prince, you’d maybe even see me more.”

Artemi smirks, looking over at him through squinted eyes. “Are you just trying to make me be prince so you see me more?”

Viktor laughs. “No, I want you to be prince so I can check out the sweet ass palace you’ll be living in. Plus, Genovia seems like it has great food, and their parliament seems super boring, so they need you to liven it up.”

It’s Artemi's turn to laugh. “Damn, you’ve been doing way more research than me. They should crown you instead. You’d make a much better prince.”

Viktor leans over to kiss his right temple. “You could be the first ever out hockey player turned prince in history. Probably the only future one, too.”

He’s never thought about it like that before. Artemi looks over at Viktor and kisses him almost involuntarily. This time, there are no cameras, no media, and definitely no one trying to get their five minutes of fame. It’s just the two of them. 

As they’re kissing, Viktor gently takes the bowl of soup from Artemi and sets it on the coffee table without breaking the kiss. When he cups Artemi’s cheek, it sends chills down Artemi’s spine and his skin feels way more on fire than it ever had with Jonny.

The simple thought that he won’t be able to kiss Viktor every day if he decides to become prince forces him to break their contact. “No wait, I don’t know if I can do this.”

Viktor’s almost breathless, but he’s still smiling. “We don’t have to do anything tonight, I was enjoying just kissing you…”

Artemi pulls back further, not being able to control his frown. “No, I want to do everything with you. That’s the problem. We’d never see each other.” He pulls the blanket off him and feels the need to stand up. “You’re about to be in America and will be surrounded by guys who can talk hockey with you, and you wouldn’t be able to be out, and if we were ever seen together, they’d start thinking things about you, and they’d never leave you alone.”

Viktor’s frowning hard. He stands up and isn’t afraid to get close. “It’s already in the news that I’m translating for the Queen of Genovia and the prince-to-be. It doesn’t matter to me what they say. Are you okay?”

Of course, Viktor’s the one about to have to prove himself in the NHL and possibly get rumors spread about him, and he’s wondering if _Artemi’s_ okay.

He sighs, letting Viktor hold his hands in his. “This is supposed to be a fairytale dream come true, right? I’m supposed to be excited about leaving my life behind?”

Viktor smiles a little sadly and shrugs. “You'd be leaving behind a life you could have had, but who knows? Maybe this is the one you're supposed to have. It’s a big choice you’ve got to make. No one said it was easy.”

God, why does he have to be so rational? “When all the NHL teams started looking at me, I thought, “Wow, going into the NHL will be the biggest choice of my life.” And now, my decision won’t just affect me and my family, but an entire country. I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to give up on my dream, but if I keep my dream, it’d be selfish.”

“You can’t think about it that way. You don’t owe your grandmother or your dad anything, and this situation is literally coming out of nowhere. You had no way to prepare for it. On the other hand, you’ve been preparing for hockey your whole life.”

Artemi thinks about it for a minute, and as he’s holding onto Viktor’s hands, he knows a pretty good place he can start making a difference in the world. “You’re right, about what you said a little bit ago. I could be the first-ever out hockey player turned prince. Or even prince, right? I don’t know. There’s definitely not a lot if there are any. And like, you know? I don’t know.”

Viktor can’t stop smiling at him. “Yeah, like, you randomly talk about how you want to grow food for the entire world and bring peace to countries you don’t know the names of, so being a prince would definitely have more of an impact.”

Artemi sighs. He knows where his decision’s going, but the problem is, he’s not sure if it’s his favorite choice. “Would you be hurt? If I chose to be prince?”

Viktor stares at him for a long time. “I’ll only be hurt if you don’t follow your heart--so whichever allows you to be _you_ the most, that’s the Tyoma I want to see. Remember, even if we were both in the NHL, we’d probably see each other even less.”

“Don’t think you can get away from me that easy,” Artemi smiles.

They just smile at each and hold hands for a couple moments, and Artemi has no idea why he never enjoyed doing this before. Viktor has great hands, not just for fucking him open, but for holding. Artemi’s a romantic thinker like that.

“Will you be my secret date to the ball?”

Viktor grins slowly. “I thought you’d never ask.”

~*~

It’s two days before the ball, and with Viktor’s help, Artemi has finally researched all about Genovia via Wikipedia and has already thought of some areas he’d like to see progress in the country. 

They have a prepared speech for Clarisse and have rehearsed it a couple times, but Artemi’s still nervous as he and Viktor walk up to Clarisse’s rented home, hopefully for the final time. 

Joe lets them in and smiles at Viktor much kindlier than he does Artemi, which Artemi makes a mental note of and vows to fix later. 

They all walk into the living room area and even as Clarisse motions for them to sit down, Artemi and Viktor stay standing. It’s now or never. Artemi clears his throat and starts his speech, but realizes Viktor will have to translate for him anyway, so everything he’s saying doesn't matter until after Viktor translates. Oh, well. 

This is what he says regardless: “I will accept the title of Prince of Genovia, but only if you and whoever else I have to work with on a daily basis can accept me and Viktor.”

As Viktor’s translating, Artemi reaches out to hold his hand as a statement. He’s never been more terrified in his life, but when Viktor finishes the sentence and squeezes his hand, he feels a little hopeful. They just came out to a queen.

Clarisse stares at them for a moment before smiling and nodding over to Joe. Artemi and Viktor both look over at him and see him judging them hard.

Joe clears his throat. “‘Tell her that my love for your cock in my mouth is greater than any love I could have for my father.’”

Out of habit, Viktor is about to translate for Artemi, but then a look of horror shows up on his face, as well as Artemi’s, when they both realize Joe just spoke in Russian.

Artemi’s face goes pale. “Oh my god. Why the fuck didn’t you say something sooner?”

Joe continues to speak in Russian, showing his teeth as he smiles for the first time. Clarisse smiles mischievously as he does. “It’s my job to protect the queen and you. I wanted to know who we were dealing with when we first met, so me pretending to not understand you would give you the freedom to say what you truly felt. And it also helped me analyze your, uh, boyfriend now? Who seems to care an awful lot about you.”

“Does she…?” Viktor asks, motioning to the queen.

“The queen had a hunch before I even spoke a word. But no,” he sighs, “She does not speak Russian, so she has been spared from hearing Artemi’s foul mouth at every turn. You really need to watch what you say if you are going to be part of the royal family.” 

Clarisse says something and is luckily still smiling. 

Artemi and Viktor are still frozen in place, so Joe continues. “The queen says it would be a great honor to have you by her side, but be aware, what you’ll be _showing_ the country, the world, is unfortunately not as lightly taken as it is in Genovia. We will have to increase security to and from the ball, and Viktor and your family will also need security until your grandparents are able to move with you. Just as a precaution.”

Artemi is finally able to unfreeze from shock and turns to Viktor for a moment before laughing lightly at what Joe said. “Oh, uh, we hadn’t gotten that far. We were thinking he’d be like my secret date, you know? Like, until he was established in the NHL and I had my bearings straight in Genovia. ...We’re not trying to save the day here. All in due time.”

Joe sighs.

Artemi and Viktor giggle to each other, and once they’re done, Artemi looks back over at Clarisse and nods. “Thank you,” he says in English. And since it’s in his prince speech, he adds, “it is an honor of mine.”

 

Artemi pats Joe’s back as he’s leaving about an hour later. Before he’s out the door, he turns his head back and smirks. “Cock. You should try it sometime.”

Joe looks at Artemi like the lost cause he is even as Viktor lightly shoves Artemi in the back for saying that. Boy, he’s really going to love speaking in Russian to Joe in Genovia. They’re off to a great start.

~*~

As he takes the stage in front of a bunch of Genovian officials who flew in, his family, friends--excluding Jonny--and of course, the media, he feels strangely calm. Not necessarily calm to speak live on camera in English for the first time, but he feels right in the decision he’s made that he knew was in his heart all along.

"Thank you all for coming. I apologize for my English, but I thought it be important to speak in language I know I will learn to love--not as much as Russian, but…” 

He pauses to let everyone laugh. 

"It has been a strange couple weeks, and though I never knew my father, I understand now the sacrifices he made. There are many people I must thank for helping me--my grandparents, teammates and coaches, my friends, and recently my grandmother, the Queen. Thank you all very much. I hope to make you proud.” 

He takes a quiet deep breathe and only has to glance at his note cards for a moment. 

"As some know, my dream has been to play hockey, and I will miss it. But I believe I would miss more opportunity to help my father’s country, and hopefully the world. I choose, now and forevermore, to be Artemi Sergeyevich Panarin _Renaldi_.”

After the applause and handshakes and tears from mainly his grandparents, Artemi shares his first dance with his grandma while his grandpa dances with Clarisse to signify their unity. 

When he’s done his fair share of mingling and even more handshakes, he looks out into the crowd for Viktor, only to find Joe pointing to the outside balcony.

Viktor is leaning against the railing, his black suit that Artemi picked out looking as good on him as ever.

“Hey,” Artemi says, stepping up to lean against it with him.

Viktor looks over, and Artemi immediately knows he wants to kiss him.

“You like my speech?” Artemi asks.

“You didn’t do as horrible as I thought.” Artemi kicks the back of his heel lightly and Viktor laughs. “Okay, fine, you did good. Obviously, you’ll need a translator who will put up with your bullshit like I do, but I’d say you’re well on your way.”

“That’s better,” Artemi smiles.

He knows he can’t risk kissing Viktor out here, so he quickly pulls out his phone and takes a selfie. When Viktor receives the message and views it, it’s a kissing selfie from Artemi.

“Oh, wow,” Viktor laughs. “Thanks. This is definitely better than a real kiss.”

“I know, I’m so romantic.”

He doesn’t realize he’s been staring at Viktor a long time until Viktor raises an eyebrow at him. “What?” Viktor asks.

Artemi likes the color of Viktor’s eyes and how he can make even the idea of now being Prince of Genovia a distant thought in his mind when he’s around him. “Someday,” Artemi says quietly, “I will kiss you in front of thousands.”

Viktor looks like he’s about to ruin the moment with sarcasm, but then thankfully he stops himself. “Promise?”

Artemi nods. “Promise.”

~*~

They’re about to land in Genovia after having been on the plane for what feels like forever, but is really only about three hours. As he prepares himself to see the Genovian palace for the first time, he takes out the journal Viktor bought him before he left for training camp and starts to summarize the last couple weeks.

So far in the journal, he’s mainly been cataloging his favorite English words like “fuck” and “delicious.” He has half the mind to think he can get by on those two words alone for quite sometime.

As far as hockey goes, Saint Petersburg’s season is over and they had a good run. Jonny is moving up to the Chicago Blackhawks like he said, and Viktor is about to be at training camp with the Phoenix Coyotes. After training camp, Artemi will fly Viktor out to Genovia like a baller and all will be well until Viktor has to go back on the ice.

Artemi’s grandparents are talking about eventually moving to Genovia, but they’ll wait until Artemi learns better English, so he can be their translator. In the meantime, they bought him a cat to accompany him on his new journey, and since it’s a long-haired cat, Artemi has decided to name it Fat Lenya. He knows that after he tells his grandparents about Viktor they might not take it well, but here’s to positive thinking.

The closer to Genovia they get, the less nervous he feels. He’s not sure if that’s how he’s supposed to feel, but he’s decided to take advice from hockey and believe that he can’t be afraid of the game or the opposing team - he just has to enjoy himself and work hard.

He’s been scribbling down some ideas about starting an after-school hockey program for disadvantaged kids, working with Genovia’s multicultural and LGBTQ initiatives, and like his father, paying attention to education, but before he can do all that, he needs to land.

His goal for the next year is to simply help where he can, be a good role model, and get a few steps closer to acting on that promise he made Viktor on the balcony.

~The End~

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! A big sorry goes out to Jonathan Toews who I made the "Josh" character of this story from TPD. He is totes not a Josh, but his face worked best for this.
> 
> Come hit me up on Tumblr at [congrhatulations](http://congrhatulations.tumblr.com/). I desire all the hockey friends.


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